Transformed by Love
by Sirannon
Summary: Fic-let about Legolas encountering an Elven princess with strange powers.


****

CHAPTER 1 – Respite

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Ainámë's heart felt heavy and her wings tired. She had flown against a head wind since departing Barad-dûr. The journey had been unpleasant throughout the whole day. Much earlier, as the dawn light crept over the horizon spilling across the Gorgoroth Plain, she had coasted over the shadowy mountains whose lethal-looking spikes and rocky spine gradually gave way to the noxious fumes of the putrescent marshes. 

When she'd finally arrived within a mile of the Dark Lord's lair she had landed and taken fox form, one of her favourites, trotting in closer to the great, sinister fortress. Once within eyesight of the guards she assumed rat form, not one of her favourites but certainly one of the most unassuming guises in her repertoire.

She had waited for a brief opening in the huge gate and scuttled her way in. The horrors she had seen within that evil place! They would not be soon forgotten. It would be wonderful to fall into sleep tonight, oh that her mind could be swept clean of the memories, but she knew in her heart that it would be a millenia before she would begin to forget the torture and depravity she had witnessed today.

Now she headed back north again. The land below was soft and rolling. Long grasses swayed in the late afternoon breeze, they beckoned to her like a feathery pillow. She wanted to float down and lay her head upon them, letting the wind blow upon her face gentle as a mother's caress. Smell the warm earth beneath her surrounded by the sharp scent of the grass all around her and fall into pleasant dreams of home.

She could fly no more. Perhaps a brief rest would ease her heart and clear her mind. Then she would journey further on before nightfall. A large forest loomed ahead; she glided towards an ancient oak landing gently upon one of its heavy limbs. She arranged her wings and settled herself quietly. Eyelids fluttered shut and sleep came upon her as swiftly as a hungry cat on a portly mouse.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I think these are even better over here, Merry. Have a look."

Merry strode over to where Pippin was pointing towards the ground. "Oh, aye! Those are lovely fat mushrooms, Pip. Well spotted!"

"Sam will season them just right and fry them up for dinner. It will be a grand meal!"

The two hobbits bent over the earth, plucking mushrooms and stuffing them into small sacks.

Ainámë woke to the sound of the friendly, little voices beneath her. What curious creatures, she wondered what they could be. They were quite short with large, hairy feet: almost grotesque in appearance however she was immediately attracted to their bright and cheerful manner. It raised her spirits just watching their obvious joy in as simple a task as collecting mushrooms. 

"It would be even grander if there was a bit of game about, Pip. You know just a small rabbit or pheasant or two."

"Oh Merry, don't torment yourself. Let's just be satisfied with these fine, meaty mushrooms and leave it at that."

Ainámë had no idea what the two were talking about but she liked their voices. They stood up, their sacks stuffed and walked off deeper into the forest. Fluttering down from her perch, Ainámë landed just behind a shrub and transformed into a fox for the second time that day. Her step was light as she trotted through the trees following the chipper voices chattering just ahead.

The two friendly creatures ambled down into a hollow where a campfire crackled. Two more of their kind were near the fire, one was wiping out a frying pan while the other slept wrapped in his travelling cloak.

Ainámë silently crept beneath a nearby bramble bush, lying down with her head upon her front paws, furry russet ears alert, listening intently to the creatures' amiable banter. Briefly, she wondered if she should be indulging herself so. Her father would be expecting her back tomorrow morning and she would not want to cause him further concern beyond his existing responsibilities. He would want a detailed report from her and he would worry for her safety if she were long overdue. She promised herself to stay only a bit longer, out of curiousity of the strange beings, and then resume her flight north.

The hairy-footed creatures seemed to be debating the best cooking method for their mushrooms. There was amicable disagreement over the small seasoning tins held by the one who looked the most well-fed of the four. The other one, who had been sleeping, rose smiling at his friends and contributed his own opinion. Finally, the stout one grabbed the sacks of mushrooms and headed towards the sound of a stream undoubtedly to wash them.

Deep voices in the same strange dialect carried over the sound of the running water. Two men returned with the stout hairy-foot. Both men were tall with bows slung across their chests and they each carried dead pheasant and quail. The men laughed as the two mushroom-pickers embraced them enthusiastically, their tiny arms only extending part of the way around the mens' waists. 

Ainámë startled at sudden movement from the other side of the glen. Her keen fox ears had heard no approaching sound and yet another tall figure emerged from the brush. An elf! She had not seen a strange elf in many days. He moved gracefully towards the group and smiled gently at the little ones as he produced a brace of rabbits from behind his back to their utter delight. The two mushroom-pickers danced about the fire and the plump one gleefully took the rabbits from the elf throwing them to the ground and withdrawing a small knife from his belt.

The elf strode lightly towards the bramble bush and made as though he was about to sit next to it. Suddenly, he stopped and stared into the bush inquisitively. Ainámë made no move at all and for a few moments even stopped breathing. The elf's crystalline blue eyes scanned the shrub and finally with a slight shrug he turned towards the fire to watch the evening meal's preparation.

Ainámë resumed breathing but kept her head low, resting upon her paws. Through a gap in the leaves she could see the elf's face calm and contented as he removed his quiver of arrows from his back and began carefully inspecting each one for repair. She felt mesmerized. He was quite possibly the most handsome elf she'd ever seen. His fair hair fell shining over broad shoulders and his long eyelashes flickered as he perused each arrow for flaws or damage. Gently his fingers coursed each arrow's feathers. She watched the quickness of his hands and noted the muscles in his forearms as he finished inspecting each arrow and returned it deftly to its carrier.

When he was finished he rose unfolding his lithe, strong body quickly and strode towards the sound of the stream. Ainámë silently stole from her hiding place following him.

The elf walked alongside the curving brook, he leapt lightly onto a rock in the middle of the stream and crossed to the other side gracefully. He knelt at a grassy spot cupping his hand into the water in order to drink. Ainámë crept silently through the bushes opposite him swiftly transforming into her true form. Her Elvish form. 

She crept forward to the stream's edge opposite the male elf and quietly spoke. 

__

"Mae govannen, curucuar."

Legolas' hand stopped in mid-air between the stream and his mouth. He looked as though he was carved from stone, except that his eyes darted upwards to see who spoke.

An elf of exquisite beauty looked at him from across the narrow waterway. Her colouring strange: russet-coloured hair plaited in elvish fashion, swept back from her lovely face. Dark blue eyes with vibrant streaks of green stared back at him expectantly.

__

"Quel andune, lirimaer," he replied.

"I am Ainámë. I am travelling here on my way to join my family."

"Legolas of the Mirkwood realm. It is my great pleasure to meet you Ainámë."

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Legolas. I have had a most dreadful day and your appearance on my journey is an unexpected delight. I am grateful to have had the fortune of stopping in this particular part of the forest."

"Not all chance meetings are decreed by fortune. Perhaps our paths led us here with purpose." 

"You are well-spoken Legolas with much thought behind your words. Are you an envoy of sorts?"

Legolas couldn't contain the smile that emerged. Ainámë was delighted by the sight. His lips were supple, white teeth flashed briefly.

"Yes," he admitted. "You could say I am an envoy. My father has sent me to accompany these men and hobbits in a…."

Legolas trailed off. Ainámë immediately recognized that he did not want to tell her too much, they had only just met after all. She was a complete stranger. 

"A task of great importance." He finished earnestly.

Seeking to re-direct the conversation but continue to spend time with Legolas, Ainámë tried the strange word out.

"Hob-bits." She said the word slowly, awkwardly.

She was rewarded with another quick smile. "Yes, hobbits. You've never encountered them?"

"No. I've never met such a being. I was attracted by their cheerful nature and sought more of it."

"You said you've had a dreadful day. Do you have much farther to journey to meet your family?"

"No. I should meet them tomorrow by mid-day."

"These lands are not safe for those travelling alone, even Elves. Have you no companions or escort?"

"No." Ainámë wasn't sure how to explain her secret talents for travelling unnoticed. "Just me." She finished weakly. Now it was her turn to be reticent. 

Legolas looked at her appraisingly, questions were in his eyes but he did not give them voice. 

"You look in need of rest. Perhaps you will stay with us tonight?" He offered graciously. "We have had a plentiful hunt and would enjoy your company at our fire."

Relieved that he was not pursuing information from her, she relaxed smiling generously at him. "I would like that very much. You are very kind."

Legolas stood as though transfixed for a moment. Ainámë wondered if he had not expected her to accept. Perhaps she should just continue on, she thought. Even if he is an elf, she should not be conversing with anyone on the dreadfulness or otherwise of her day. She should go directly to her father and report only to him on her journey into Mordor.

The quiet babble of the brook was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. Ainámë turned to see the two men who stopped abruptly at seeing her. The taller of the two, who wore a long broadsword at this side, looked questioningly at Legolas.

"Aragorn," Legolas began, "this is Ainámë. She is on her way to meet with her family."

Aragorn placed his hand gently over his heart, bowing his head in respect to Ainámë greeting her in Elvish as he did so. Most unexpected from a man, she thought.

"It is an honour to meet you, Aragorn."

"And this is Boromir of Gondor." Legolas continued.

In the fashion of men, Boromir took Ainámë's hand while bowing his head. Ainámë noted his eyes did not remain lowered to the ground, he took a quick appraisal of her waist and hips. Checking if she was armed, she realized.

"You are travelling alone?" Aragorn asked.

Here we go, thought Ainámë. I should take my leave quickly, she decided. I have drawn far too much attention to myself with this self-indulgent pause from my duties.

"Yes," she replied. "I was separated from my family while we were travelling west."

"These are dangerous times to be travelling alone. Even for an Elf."

"Yes, it was not my intent to travel by myself. However I am certain I will re-join my father's entourage on the Anduin Plain tomorrow."

Aragorn looked sceptically at Legolas who replied, "I extended an invitation to Ainámë to join us in our meal and perhaps lend her gracious company to our fire this evening."

Ainámë smiled at Legolas gratefully but her mind was awhirl thinking on how to take her leave of this company as soon as possible.

"You are most kind to offer to share your food and warmth with me," she began. "Though I fear that any further delay in my travel will prevent me from uniting with my family. I should continue on before night falls."

"No," said Aragorn simply.

Ainámë's eyes snapped towards him. Legolas felt a wave of aggression emanate from her and wondered if Aragorn sensed it also. As quickly as it emerged, it was suppressed and Ainámë smiled graciously at Aragorn.

"There is no need for concern on my behalf. I will be able to make the rest of my journey safely and I do not wish to delay you in your own travels any further."

Legolas was about to counter Ainámë's reasoning, striving to think of a way to get her to agree to stay longer without feeling coerced into doing so, when he heard the unmistakable sound of metal being drawn from scabbard.

Borimir drew his blade swiftly. Ainámë took a step back but did not flee.

"Borimir!" Legolas cried.

"There is a foul smell about her," Borimir's voice rang coldly. "In all my travels across Middle Earth, I have smelt it but once. In the Dead Marshes."

"Borimir, there is no need for this." Aragorn raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Do you not think it odd?" Borimir's voice raised in volume but his eyes never left Ainámë. "A beautiful elf comes into our midst while we are in the middle of nowhere. But leagues from the borders of Mordor."

"Ainámë, please forgive him," Legolas entreated. 

Ainámë tore her gaze from Borimir's blade to look into Legolas' face. His conern was sincere.

A cynical laugh burst from Borimir. "What better spy to send forth to unwit our strongest guardian than that of a fair elf maiden?"

Legolas' temper flared, he glared angrily at Borimir while his fists clenched reflexively. So focussed was his fury, it took a moment for him to register the movement. Ainámë had disappeared into thin air. But not disappeared, suddenly a red eagle hovered in the air next to him. With a powerful flap of its wings the bird pushed away from them. Another quick flap sent it plunging into the dense woods. The elf and two men blinked simultaneously, a final flash of russet-coloured wings was all they glimpsed as the raptor disappeared into the gloom of the darkening forest.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Ainámë = (Quenyan) _Winged Angel_

"Mae govannen, curucuar." = Well met, skillful bowman

__

"Quel andune, lirimaer." = Good day, fair lady

****

Please Review! Let me know if you like this so far. I may make a full-length story out of it. 


End file.
